


A feral cat.

by AFurryBunny



Category: DCU (Comics), Suicide Squad (2016)
Genre: No Fluff, No cute Jokers here, the little sadist
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-29
Updated: 2018-01-17
Packaged: 2018-11-21 03:05:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 15,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11348559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AFurryBunny/pseuds/AFurryBunny
Summary: To witness a murder in Gotham was one thing. To witness a murder at the hand of the Clown Prince of Crime was another thing entirely... especially when he follows you home.(Kept gender neutral.)





	1. Human

Gotham, the actual name of the city was New York but, it had been given the nickname for the amount of crime. The darkness, the evil, that flooded the infamous city, was overwhelming. Capital murder, drug dealing, drug abuse, theft, domestic violence, hijacking, gang violence. Those were just a few items on the city's blackened to-do list. However, amidst it all was the city's biggest crime feat was the most dangerous of them all.  
Madness.  
One, no, two, in particular, that proved this theory was Gotham's ignominious couple. One had been given the name the Clown Prince of Crime and his sidekick Harley Quinn. It was advised to stay away from the rumoured territories of the green-haired maniac and his shadow. She was his sheep that followed him everywhere. No doubt the faithful follower that did as she was commanded without question.  
It was their sick love story. If one could even call what they shared, love. He was a nihilist and she suffered from a severe case of Stockholm syndrome. He was just one of those people who wanted to watch the world burn. He wanted to be the one to push it over the edge. The Joker was not someone the average Joe wished to bump into. Not unless our friend Joe wished to laugh himself to death. Literally. To death. No thanks to Joker gas. Or possibly the Joker would be in a good mood and Joe will just have hydrochloric acid squirted onto his face from a daisy in the Joker's pocket. Maybe, if the ingenious sociopath was in a hurry dear Joe would just get himself shot. Whatever the mood one would never encounter the Joker and live. The people who escaped during an attack are sent to Arkham from the fear instilled within their veins. None dared speak of the demon circus clown. 

Until you had been offered a (enter preferred profession here) job in the hub of the city.  
"Yeah, the area's a little shitty but I'll make do with what I've got." You stammered into the other end of the line, "The buildings are run down. The neighbourhood looks like I'd get mugged or shot for the ten dollars in my pocket, but hey."  
"That sounds like the beginning of a Green Street Hooligans sequel." (Friend's name) retorted with a laugh, "Just keep your favourite teams to yourself.  
"It is New York so maybe I'll join my very own Fight Club." You replied without missing a beat, "It's not so bad. If I mind my own business and keep my head down then I should stay out of trouble."  
"You made that sound like you've gone to prison, not New York City." (Friend's name) said with a pretentious laugh.  
"This place is called Gotham for a reason. They even changed the NYPD to GCPD. People don't just do that without one."  
"Scared you might have a little run in with the Joker?"  
"Don't even joke about that shit. Talk to you later."  
You lugged yourself up the four flights of concrete stairs. The faded white paint on the rails peeled aside to reveal the rusted metal beneath. You fished for the key in your pocket as you found the respective door. The hallway looked in no better shape than the stairs. The floors were blanketed in grime and the walls had either the dirty handprints of children or stained from the dust. Yet, when you stepped through the door it seemed a whole new building. Sure, it wasn't a huge apartment but it was big enough for you. With two bedrooms, a decent sized kitchen and living room. You hung interesting paintings on the beige walls and decorated the empty spaces with plants or furniture. The coral tiled floors were kept relatively clean. You were comfortable because it was home. 

A week into your new job you made a friend in someone just as eccentric as you. Her name was Felicity. She had wild, flame red hair that framed her heart-shaped face. Freckles dotted her pale skin and her small frame reminded you of an energetic pixie. You were both misfits in your eyes and that was why you got along so well. Her light, twinkling voice matched her looks. She loved to laugh and her sense of humour was little less than morbid. Her baby blue eyes always gleamed with mischief. It was the extent of how much you had in common that made you such great friends. The only difference was that Felicity was a social butterfly whereas you would only strike up a conversation if someone spoke to you first. She thought it was a good idea to celebrate your one week anniversary of surviving the unforgiving concrete jungle that was Gotham. You had no run-ins with thugs or other villainous prudes that lurked in the shadows. You always felt like you were being watched as you made your way home from work. No taxi driver would go anywhere near your neighbourhood. You hadn't blamed them. It grew tiresome looking over your shoulder every five minutes. Copious amounts of alcohol to drown that all away seemed like a damned good idea. If only you didn't have a problem with how sick it made you feel in the morning. 

You let the scorching water of your small shower seep over your body for a while. You thought about all the reasons you allowed Felicity to talk you into going out with her. The gloomy weather of Gotham hadn't helped her petition either. When the time came for you to step out of your own thoughts you sighed. You dried yourself off of the warm water and slipped into something worthy of night crawling. Something comfortable and eye-catching that suited you. By the time you looked at your phone Felicity had sent you seven different messages. She was taking you to a place called Smile and Grin. An odd name for a nightclub but it hadn't raised any red flags. You were new around the city so you weren't familiar with many places. You trot down the flights of stairs after locking up behind you. Felicity waited for you in her cherry red Chevy Impala. The car certainly was a sight for sore eyes. When you climbed into the glittering vehicle your eyes fell on the short, royal blue cocktail dress she was wearing. How high it rode up her thighs convinced you she was looking for trouble. 

Despite its shocking appearance the cherry red Impala had a soothing purr as she sped along the streets of Gotham. You didn't mind the reckless driving of the redhead beside you. It even amazed you how she could drive so well in the ridiculous black heels she was wearing. What bothered you was the area she drove through. It was on the opposite side of the city. You'd heard it was a lot like the neighbourhood you lived in. The only difference was that it was much bigger and far worse. You felt uneasy in your seat as you passed gathered gang members at every corner. You made sure not to look any of them in the eye. Felicity had no issue with where she was travelling to. When she saw the frightened look in your eye she tilted her head back in a fit of giggles.  
"Don't worry, I got you." She assured you with an amused smile on her face, "Smile and Grin is unfortunately in the middle of this cesspool of crime driven savages. I've been here more than once so I know my way around them. They're all frightened of the monarch of chaos. They wouldn't dare cost him money."  
"Who's the monarch of chaos?" You asked with caution.  
"Don't worry about him." She quipped with a grin, "He's like a feral cat. If you don't bother him then he won't bother you."

Felicity pulled up in front of the entrance to the club. It consisted of double doors beneath a too-bright red and white grin made up of neon lights that stretched uncomfortably wide. She bounced out of the car with a satisfied smile on her face. You, however, got out of the car with an uncertain caution. You reminded yourself that you were there to drown your sorrows. She took your hand and practically dragged you into the club. The interior surprised you. It actually looked like a sophisticated establishment. The booths were laced with gold, the walls were littered with gold wall lamps, the wood furniture was polished and the bar had intricate carvings. There were beaded curtains of gold at each of the booths. The only thing that reminded you it was a club was the thumping music and the dancing cages. Felicity watched as you calmed down at your new surroundings. You weren't sure you liked the look on her face. You pushed away the nagging feeling and trailed behind her to the extravagant bar. Once there she ordered you both two shots of tequila each. Your brow furrowed in confused amusement.  
"Why such strong drinks so soon?" You asked with a chuckle.  
"Go big," she said taking her first shot, "or go home." 

The night consisted of you grinding against a very drunk Felicity, drinking more, paying for the over-priced drinks and back to grinding. You buzzed after the fifth tequila shot. That was $125 already. It was $25 a shot. You didn't care you were having fun after a tiresome first week. In a place like that, it didn't surprise you their drinks were so expensive. After the seventh shot, you had to pee badly. Felicity explained how to get there with a drunken giggle. She convinced you she would wait for you at one of the booths. You must have made a wrong turn somewhere along the line because you couldn't find the bathroom anywhere. It looked like you found a whole new section of the club. You used the wall to steady yourself. The music was dulled down as you made your way to what looked like a separate lounge. You could hear voices on around the corner. There were two men and one frivolous woman. You thought maybe they could point you in the direction of the bathroom. However, the first man sounded pissed whilst the other tried to sooth him. The malice in the first man's voice sent shivers up and down your spine. You took one more step when there was the echo of a gunshot ringing in your ears. You stood frozen at the bloody scene. Your heart dropped into your stomach. The green-haired brute with the gun in his hand smoothed over his messed comb over. Your blood ran cold as the colour drained from your face. Those menacing, soul-piercing blue eyes looked right at you. He shifted his feet in your direction. You took off in the direction you had come. The vision of the dead gangbanger with him standing over it seared into your mind's eye.

For a moment you'd forgotten about Felicity. You found her chatting up another tattooed gangbanger in the first booth. You managed to shove the poor flirt and grabbed her by the arm. Both of them weren't too pleased with your rude behaviour. In the corner of your eye, you could see men in suits closing in on you. One of them you recognised at the scene. You had to get out of there as soon as possible.  
"We have to get out of here." You hissed into her ear.  
You took the keys from her and ducked her into the obvious car. You started up the engine and pressed down on the accelerator as hard as you could. Your spooked driving outmatched her recklessness. Her baby blue eyes were wide with your sudden change of demeanour. She hadn't said a word until you were both near your apartment.  
"Did you see him?" She asked with a whisper, "God, you did!"  
"I can't un-see them." You spoke through clenched teeth, "So much blood! The back of his head was all over the wall…"  
Your hands shook on the steering wheel as you stopped at a traffic light. The only one you obeyed after a while.

You gave Felicity her car back after stopping at your apartment. You explained what you'd seen the rest of the drive home. Her eyes widened when you said he'd seen you. There was an audible gasp that left her lips. You wished she would say something, anything, to calm your nerves. Instead, she just studied you in silence until you got out of the car. You almost crawled up the flights of stairs. You watched from your living room window as the cherry red Chevy Impala disappeared into the night. You turned off all the lights in your apartment and relieved yourself before bed. In the madness, you had peed a little on yourself. You had to change into pyjamas. The events of the night played over in your head. It sent chills throughout your body every time. The thought that you would never have to go back there and you'd only been once comforted you. No one there knew who you were. It was the opposite end of the city as well. All those thoughts reassured you that you were safe so long as you stayed at home a while.  
"Going to bed so early are we?" An ominous voice came from the darkest corner of the room, "But the night is still so very young."

Tak-tak-tak-tak. His fingers tapped against the wooden arm of the corner chair he seated himself down on. You could almost feel the malicious smile on his face in the darkness. Tak-tak-tak-tak. The other hand rested on his cane as his fingers continued to systematically tap against the wood. His gaze never left you. The way it followed you made you feel like a stalked deer. It tightened the knots in your stomach. Your head felt light and it was much harder to breathe. You weren't sure about what to do. He hadn't said a word since. The silence between you seemed more precarious. You shifted on your feet to face the devil in your room. It was debatable whether or not you should have looked him in the eye.  
"It's rude not to attend to house guests." He quipped with a sneer.  
"I won't tell anyone what I saw tonight, I swear." You stammered.  
"Not what I was talking about." He jeered, "Do what I asked."  
To be honest you weren't entirely sure what he wanted. Was he asking for something to eat or drink? You thought he should be a lot less cryptic when he spoke. You heard an exasperated sigh from his direction. It was a sign that couldn't mean anything good.  
"Well, go!" He almost yelled through clenched teeth. 

It sent you scampering to the kitchen of your apartment. You'd rather not piss off an already vicious Joker. You fumbled with the less-than-glamorous coffee maker. It was difficult making coffee in the darkness. You burned both hands with the blackened water. Some unceremonious cuss words left your mouth in a hiss. You dug in your cupboards for a decent mug, unable to see much save for the bright lights that illuminated the room from the outside. You opened the cupboard that stored all things classified under, ‘other' for a coffee tray. There was an audible grunt as the stacked items all fell out onto the floor with a loud crash. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath in, to centre yourself. You sifted through the fallen items for the coffee tray your aunt had given you. You'd never used it. There never was a need for it until that night. You could have sworn you heard a pair of throaty Ha ha's in the other room. The satisfying thought of whacking him upside the head with it filled your mind. The consequences of your actions followed soon after and rather decided against it. You placed a jar of sugar, a small jug of milk, the mug of coffee and a small plate of biscuits on the tray. You concentrated hard in the darkness as you made your way back to your unwanted guest. You made sure not to drop anything off the ends. You stood before the Joker with the tray in hand. His malevolent blue eyes shifted from the tray to your face and back. He sat back in his chair and stared. He made no move for the offered items in front of him. You stood in front of him like a fool for who knows how long. It felt like it was all for nothing.  
"So thoughtful." He quipped, "But I don't want anything." 

You gave him a less-than-appropriate stare back and screamed all sorts of profanities at the trickster in the back of your head. You ground your teeth together and offered a swift nod instead. The last thing you wanted was to upset the jester of genocide. However, it seemed your torment was not yet over. He grabbed for the mug of coffee as soon as you made your way back to the kitchen. The suddenness of imbalance threw you off your feet and the tray, along with the rest of the contents, went brusquely crashing to the ground. The Clown Prince of Crime sipped on his coffee as if nothing happened. You picked yourself up from the ground. Your nightshirt soaked in the milk that spilt all over the floor. That was the final straw. You weren't going to take any more of his antics. Enough was enough.  
"What the hell is your problem?" You asked with a hiss.  
"Why don't we play a little game hmm?" He answered, his lips curling into a virulent snarl, "Every time you say something I don't like, I hit you."  
It was the first time he got to his feet. He took a step closer to you with his cane in both hands. They wrangled at the smooth metal stick just itching to use it. He licked his lips in anticipation.  
"That doesn't sound like a very fair game." You stammered. 

As soon as the words were said the metal made contact with the flesh of your cheek. The whipping sound it made and the sheer force sent you stumbling back a few steps. Your ears began to ring. It was more the shock of the impact than the pain that overwhelmed you. You lifted your hand to your cheek to stroke the tender flesh. That man was far stronger than what you gave him credit for.  
"How…" You started before he hit you with his cane a second time.  
It hurt a whole lot more the second time. It made contact with your spine. It felt like he damn near severed the cords and shifted the vertebrae out of place. The harrowing pain brought you to your knees. It sent sharp piercing shards of agony throughout your body as you got to your feet.  
"Please." You begged for him to stop.  
Instead, there was yet another whizzing sound and the metal smacked your left arm. The sting of solid metal against soft flesh brought hot tears to your eyes. The drained laughter of the sick bastard before you echoed against the four walls. He enjoyed inflicting such pain. The more your body ached the angrier you became. He stood there in wait for you to say something.  
"That's enough." You warned with a growl.

He raised his cane to whack you a fourth time. Three times was enough. You caught the cold metal stick. It hurt like hell but it was worth the second of shock on his face. You tore the cane from his grasp. The logical side of your brain urged you to throw it out of his reach. The illogical side screamed for you to hit him back. Had you been sober you would have listened to the logical side. But you weren't so you didn't. You pulled a trick on him, (Friend's name) taught you. You raised the cane as though you would hit him on the right and, once he ducked to the left to defend himself, shifted the cane to your other hand and delivered the strike. It was a simple deceptive manoeuvre but it was effective. You did it again from the left to the right. To hear his animalistic cries from the pain you inflicted felt good. It felt like tantalising justice. He seemed to have caught on to your trick when he caught the cane the third time you tried to hit him. You had a feeling you were done for after that. 

The look on his face damn near stopped your heart. He was more than a little pissed. The cane dropped to the floor beside his feet with a chilling thud. You took a step back in cowardice. You were closer to the door. Maybe there was a slight chance you could escape him. There wasn't. As soon as you moved he was on you like a feral predator. His fingers locked around your throat. You could see the malicious snarl up close. His grip grew tighter the more you struggled. Yet, he was human after all. He would wince every time your nails ripped at his pasty white skin. Your lungs burned from the struggle for breath. Your head felt light at the lack of oxygen. He proved his unpredictability. He pulled you into a fervent kiss. His hand never left your throat. Something so violent, so passionate, that you weren't sure of what dizzied you. The lack of oxygen or the heat he gave off. His hold loosened around your neck and he turned to retrieve his cane.  
"I expect you to visit me again," he said over his shoulder with a light purr, "soon."


	2. Bad liar.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With my feelings on fire, guess I'm a bad liar.

“Joker did _what_?” Felicity asked with a hiss, “You sure it wasn’t a hallucination? That kind of thing is his forte.”  
“Chemistry, morbid comedy, murder and recklessness are his _forte._ ” You corrected her with a deadpan expression, “He forced me to scramble around for him _just_ for shits and giggles, beat me with a cane, choked me to near death and then he kissed me. I have the blackened bruises to prove it. People are looking at me weird, wearing a scarf, and I have to keep making excuses for my cheek. I have to be careful how I move or I… ouch, hurt my back.”  
“Ooh, honey that does look like it hurts a lot.” She quipped, her face scrunching up as she studied your swollen, throbbing cheek.  
“Well, gee you don’t fucking say!” You retorted.  
“If you ask me it sounds like someone has a little crush on you.” She said with a mischievous giggle.  
“He’s a decrepit sociopath not a pubescent school boy.” You replied with a snap, “If I never see him again it would be far too soon!”  
“Who could resist your eccentric charm?” She continued as though what you were saying went straight through her one ear and out the next, “You have the most intriguing (eye colour) eyes I’ve ever seen, your facial features are worthy of note and you dress your (body type) figure suitably. Then again it could also have been the fact that you had the balls to hit him back. Who has big enough balls to hit the Joker? I mean, other than Batman.”  
“You’re getting way too excited about this.” You responded with a roll of your eyes, “Can we please talk about something else?”

You recalled all of the events of two weeks before. You gave in to the insistent red haired friend of yours and told her everything. They played on repeat in the back of your mind for hours. You hardly got any sleep. Most of the reason was on account of the pain. You registered just how hard he’d hit you hours afterward. The part of you that urged you to hit him back hoped he was in just as much pain. He had to be. You had put all of your built up rage into those strikes. The hand that caught his cane bruised as well. You would flinch every time you made a wrong move. You had five of them in total. There was one on your hand, one on your arm, one on your cheek, one on your back and one shaped like a hand on your throat. You figured it must have been what Harley Quinn looked like on a regular basis. He believed he could do whatever he wanted to whomever he wanted. That was what irked you the most about him. One thing you were certain would return the favour was if you ignored his demand for another visit to his club. The thought of an exasperated look on his face brought a satisfactory smile to yours. Felicity suggested the two of you take him up on his offer the weekend coming up. You had never been more grateful for a Monday.

The week passed by quicker than you had expected. You fetched pain killers from the clinic for the fading bruises. The nurse there warned not to be tempted by the devilish persuasion of a life of crime in Gotham. You had to assure the woman three times that you weren’t involved in gang activity. You told her it was because you were jumped on the way home from work. For some reason the stubborn woman hadn’t believed a word. You turned down Felicity countless times in that single week. She seemed to be just as stubborn as the nurse at the clinic. The poor girl wouldn’t take no for an answer. To return to that club was just looking for trouble. A mess you weren’t interested in cleaning up after her. You eventually told her that if she wanted to go to Smile and Grin then she’d have to do it alone. There was no chance in hell you were endangering your life again. Once was more than enough. Your red haired counterpart puffed out her bottom lip in a sulking pout. That was on Friday. Saturday you walked into the animal shelter just three blocks from where you lived. It got lonesome living on your own in such a shitty part of the city. You thought a faithful pet would be good company. The puppies with their high-pitched barks wagged their tails as soon as you passed through the door. The kittens in the play pen beside them walked around in exuberant circles.

The woman behind the counter flashed you an enthusiastic grin. You offered her a polite nod in return and walked through the enclosed shelter. There were all types of reptilian species. Some of them you noticed suffered from abuse or had been taken from pet owners who hadn’t known any better. You chuckled at the bearded dragon waving its hands against the glass when you approached. Around it were blue-striped garter snakes, pythons, king snakes, a leopard gecko and an albino corn snake. The relaxed reptiles fascinated you. You moved on through the shelter to where the smaller animals were kept. There were playful ferrets, curious hedgehogs that sniffed in your direction, frightened dwarf rabbits and rats that couldn’t have cared less. Some of which were missing bits of their ears. None of them called out to you as a potential companion however cute they were. In the back room you could hear the squawks of various parrots and other exotic birds. You looked over your shoulder to the woman behind the counter. Her smile grew and she gestured for you to enter the miniscule bird sanctuary. Inside were African Greys, Cockatiels and Macaws. She explained that every one of them had been nursed to health over a few months. You felt guilty once your eyes met the Macaw that struggled to fly. Yet you weren’t sure you wanted the constant screams of those special birds. You left the shelter with an ecstatic Beagle puppy in hand.

Bellatrix bounded around the apartment with such enthusiasm that she must have tripped you at least twice. The atmosphere already seemed lighter. Your Land Lord approved the new pet due to the crazy cat lady across the hall from you. He joked that maybe your new pup would chase some of the pests away. You didn’t mind the abundance of felines because of how they kept the rat population under control. Once her energy had worn out she snuggled beside you on the couch as you both watched whatever was on the television. Her grumbling stomach reminded you to get food for your new best friend. You fixed something to eat for the two of you to eat when your phone insisted you read its texts. The six of them were from Felicity. She tried one more time to get you to go out with her. She assured you that the Joker wouldn’t be there. That he had some business to attend to. She told you this whole story about how he went on a rampage to find Harley Quinn. You told her you couldn’t care less whether he was there or not. It was cold, the weather was gloomy and you wanted to get to know your new companion for life. She sent a picture of a pouty face but you had made up your mind. You received a, ‘fine’ in response and you heard nothing more from her. It made you wonder just why you were friends with that woman. Three weeks in Gotham and you already knew better than to trust the Joker’s absence. He had goons that would do who knew what for that psycho.

Another week went by. That made a month in Gotham. A month away from what was once your home. It was a month into your new job. Three weeks since your run-in with the Joker. Your less serious bruises began to yellow. Your spine was a completely different story. That asshole must have bruised the bone. Bellatrix settled in nicely even though she was one hell of a handful. You could have done without replacing three pairs of shoes, several coffee mugs, a couple dinner plates and a throw pillow. She was particularly boisterous when you took the little monster out for a walk. That Sunday you took her out. It was a little later than usual but that wasn’t your fault. She refused to wake up at her usual time and you grew tired of being nipped at. Felicity stopped by your apartment to avoid the gang banger she brought home with her the night before. That woman was looking for trouble in all the wrong places. She insisted on accompanying the two of you on your walk. She argued that two bodies were better than one. You knew better than to say no to her when she was already halfway out the door with Bellatrix in tow. The storm clouds darkened the city earlier that afternoon. You quickened the pace on your walk so you would reach home before the downpour. Bellatrix behaved herself the entire walk until you reached an alley just five blocks away from home. There two feral cats fought near the trash cans. The commotion got Bellatrix excited and she struggled against the leash. You tried your best to calm her down. Even Felicity tried her best to soothe the animal. Despite your efforts the aggravated Beagle got loose from her leash and bolted after the surprised cats. You were forced to sprint after the barking escapist.

The temperature had dropped a few degrees as it grew darker. You and Felicity walked for hours calling out for Bellatrix. After half an hour of almost losing your voice a creeping panic slithered into your pounding heart. The city was huge and that lost pup could have been anywhere. Above all else droplets of drizzle nestled in your hair. Soon after that the rain fell harder until you were both forced to take shelter. It was dark, the rain was pouring down in buckets, you were soaked, you were cold and Bellatrix was nowhere to be seen. Thoughts buzzed through your head like frenzied bee swarms. Each one’s sting hurt more than the one before. What if she had run into a busy street and got hit by a car? What if she’d been swept down a drain in the heavy currents of the storm? What if someone had stolen your dog? Hey, anything was possible in Gotham. Fear washed over you with every drop of rain that fell. Felicity could see the worry in your eyes. She placed a hand on your shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. Her lips parted to offer words of comfort when those doe-like blue eyes spot something behind you. The corners of her mouth widened into a joyful grin.  
“There! She’s just bolted through the fence and into that old warehouse.” Felicity yelled over the pounding of the rain, “The poor thing must be looking for shelter in there. The sooner we get her the sooner I can take a piping hot shower.”

You followed behind the drenched red haired woman with reluctance. The abandoned warehouse didn’t exactly have a welcome sign. The windows were covered with black plastic, some of which were shattered. The walls were so filthy that not even the mass amount of rain could wash away the dirt. The fence that surrounded the yard was worn and full of large holes. When you weaved your way through the fence you noticed how large the building truly was. There was the strong stench oozing from the inside through the broken windows. It wasn’t just an abandoned warehouse it was a chemical plant. Possibly left to the elements because of how close it was to the city. Surly it was classified as endangerment. If that place were to blow then half the city would have gone with it. Still, just the way it towered over you as you grew near sent warning shivers up and down your spine. Other than the obvious surface flaws something just didn’t seem right with that building. Felicity had already crawled through one of the shattered windows. That careless daredevil had no sense of when she was walking right into danger. She poked her head through the window and asked if you were coming. If you had a choice you would have turned around and left. But you didn’t. The rogue animal and pelting rain made sure of that. So you followed in after her.

It was darker inside the chemical plant than it was outside. Despite the dim ceiling lights you could hardly see anything. There were large crates that cast ominous shadows all over the place. The thick humidity made it difficult to breathe over and above the reek of chemicals that burnt your nose. The place had a foreboding atmosphere about it. Something inside your head warned you not to call for the pup out loud. You weren’t sure why but it just seemed like a terrible idea. Instead, you whistled for Bellatrix. You could hear her high pitched bark. It echoed in the otherwise silent building. There was no sound other than the low hum of functional machinery. It was weird because the place was abandoned. Why would the mechanics still be running? The further you lurked the more questionable it became. You reached rows of bubbling vats filled to their brim with thick, golden-yellow liquid. That was where the smell was coming from. It was so strong that it made you choke on it. That wasn’t even the least of your problems. There was a metal bridge above you with very little safety to keep one from falling into the vats. On the bridge sat two constrained muscular men covered in cuts and bruises. In front of them paced the Clown Prince himself. He didn’t look like he was in a good mood either. The cherry on top of your miserable cake… Bellatrix went trotting behind him with her chipper bark.

Your heart sank into your stomach when he looked down at the friendly Beagle. You and Felicity were hidden safely behind one of the huge vats. Joker bent down to pick her up by the scruff of her neck. He lifted her up to his face. His brow furrowed at the sudden intruder. By then your heart had lifted into your throat. Bellatrix remained motionless in his harsh grasp. The poor thing was unsure of what to do. You weren’t sure at what point Felicity passed you but she beckoned you to follow her. She had found the stairs that lead up to the bridge. You made sure to stick to the shadows as you tailed behind her. Joker lifted the tag on her collar.  
“Well, what do we have here?” He almost sang, “To what do I owe the pleasure… Bellatrix? Imaginative name you got there pup. You must have quite the boss. How did you manage to get in here, is the real question. You would make for an excellent present for the psychiatrist. Alright then stay put puppydog.”  
“Forgive our intrusion, Mr J.” Felicity said, stepping out of her hiding place, “But, that pup you’re holding is my friend’s dog. We took her out for a walk and she managed to get away. Chased after stupid cats in an alleyway and got lost. If-if you could give her back we would leave you to your _business_ in peace. See, I’ve got the leash right here that matches her collar.”

You were horrified by her impulsive decision. You of all people knew what he was like in a bad mood. The way his icy blue eyes glared her down made you shudder. It was much worse in the dim light than it was in total darkness. At least then you couldn’t see the pure hatred in them. He had Bellatrix tucked under his bloodied arm. Possibly belonging to the men tied down in metal chairs. He watched your red haired friend with wild eyes. He clearly didn’t like surprises. His tongue snaked out to wet his lips as soon as she stopped at his feet. Those soul piercing eyes shifted from the pup under his arm to her outstretched hands. You swallowed the thick lump that formed in your throat. You knew he wasn’t going to give the dog up. You _knew_ it. You knew _him._ You would never forgive yourself if he did something to your friend for your sake. That was your dog and she had the guts to try and get it back for you. You knew it was foolish but you stepped out of your hiding place after her. Joker looked over her shoulder at you. An, ‘oh’ left his lips as you cautiously approached the green-haired demon.

“She’s not lying. That’s my dog.” You assured him, “Got her a week ago. Bella’s a little menace. I had to replace a whole bunch of stuff in the house. Can I have her back, please? I really didn’t pay $120 dollars for a bag of luxury puppy food for it to go to waste.”  
“And here I thought you’d come to visit _me_.” He stated, feigning a dramatic sigh, “ _Shame on you_! Fine, you can have your pup back, but there is one condition. You have to play a game with me. You see, these handsome hunka hunkas behind me here are spinning two different stories. One says one thing while the other says another. I want you to suss out which is telling the truth and which one isn’t. Oh, and I want you to shoot the liar.”  
He held out his gun to you. You shuffled forward and palmed the weapon he’d put in your hand. Your eyes fell to the firearm. A 45mm pistol to be exact. It was heavier than it looked. Its metal was a royal purple in colour with black and gold brocade on the magazine. There was a face of a jester in the middle of the magazine. It undoubtedly belonged to Joker. He urged the men to tell you their stories individually whilst he cradled Bellatrix in his arms. He tore you from the trance it put you in. He wanted you to kill for him. It was his twisted test for you to get your dog back. You turned your attention to the men in chairs and held the gun limp at your side. Up close you saw Joker had done quite a number on them. To shoot them both would be a kindness. Put an end to their pain. But, of course, neither one of them wanted to die.

You turned your full attention to the first goon. He was bigger than his compatriot. There was more muscle on him than the other. Neither one of them were attractive to the eye. It might have been the amount of damage each one had taken from their enraged boss. Your judgemental (eye colour) eyes bore into his blackened orbs. He told you that he was at the chemical plant when the man next to him ambushed him and the other guards. All for a fight over money. He said he was told that they should rob the clowning freak while he was distracted. The items in the large crates you had passed were incredibly valuable. He wouldn’t say what for your sake but they were worth millions. He said it was their plan to steal the crates and auction them off to the highest bidder. It seemed awfully suspicious that he knew their exact plans. The second victim opposed everything he said. _He_ stated that it was his accomplice’s idea to steal from Mr J. He said that he was just following orders. He was adamant that the first man threatened the lives of his family if he didn’t do as he was told or said anything to Mr J. He swore on his mother’s grave that he wouldn’t have betrayed Joker like that if it didn’t mean the compromised safety of his family. The second one sounded like he knew how to tug on the heartstrings. You lifted the gun from your hip. Felicity screamed behind you as two gunshots went off. The bullets ripped through their skulls like they were soft fruit. None of them were telling the truth. You stood frozen over the limp bodies. There was emptiness in your eyes as you lowered the gun again. Joker found that most amusing. His raw laughter pulsed in your ears.

“Well done.” He stated with a flay of his arms, Bellatrix clutched in his one hand, “You do have a good eye for spotting bullshit. Maybe I should hire you as one of my goons. Would you be looking for a job perhaps? Nah. Maybe not. Because, I said shoot the _liar_ not the _liars._ One. Not two.” He clicked his tongue and wagged his finger in your face, “Naughty (boy/girl). I hope your pup can swim.”  
With one swift movement he threw Bellatrix over the rails of the bridge and into one of the bubbling vats. Your heart stopped as you watched the flying pet. It all seemed like slow motion after that. Instinct took over after that. You uttered a very spiteful, ‘sonofabitch’ before bowling him over and throwing yourself after the yelping pup. The seething liquid hit you harder than expected. It burnt at your skin. You searched blindly for the dog as the chemicals peeled away the layers. You compared the pain to being overwhelmed by a swarm of African fire ants all pinching at every cell at once. Your arm wrapped around something wriggling in the thick golden-yellow brew. To touch anything was like scraping sandpaper against an open flesh wound. You kicked up and clawed your way to the surface. The chemicals seemed to weigh you down. As if your lungs weren’t already on fire from the struggle. Your hand hit against the brim of the vat and you hoisted yourself up with a force. Bellatrix was your main priority. You breathed a sigh of relief at the sound of her silent whimpering. Her heartbeat raced in time with your own. You used whatever strength you had left to pull yourself out of the toxic chemicals. You let out an agonized scream as your feet hit the ground. It brought you to your knees. The shooting pain burned through your bones like wild flame. You held Bellatrix to your chest with a heavy pant as you got to your feet. All you could think about was to get Bellatrix help as soon as possible.

The pouring rain pelted against your sensitive skin. It felt as though a curious child continued to poke at a snake that had just shed its skin with a thorned stick. You ground your teeth at the pain and cradled Bellatrix to your chest. What worried you most was how her heartbeat slowed. It was too slow for your liking. You slipped and skidded up the sidewalk with one goal in mind. Your clothing clung to you like a second skin. The colours faded and bleached from the chemicals. It took forever to reach the veterinary clinic. You prayed to any and every God there was that they would still accept your pup however late it was. There was no one at the front desk that you could see. You pounded against the glass door so hard that you were afraid it might shatter. When no one answered you, your knocks became more frantic. The damned dog struggled to breathe from the pain she was in. She drooled a small pond at your feet. She couldn’t keep her head up either. Scalding tears rolled down your cheeks as your fist pounded hopelessly against the door. You coughed on choked sobs with the pup draped over the arm that held her. You cradled her little face in your free hand and whispered a heartbroken apology. Finally the lights flicked on in the clinic. The door surprised you as it swung open with a force. The veterinarian on call said that someone had phoned. The vet wouldn’t say who but he ushered you inside. He took Bellatrix from you and told you to wait in the front. He disappeared in the back and left you to your frenzied thoughts. You made a note to remember to thank Felicity the next time you saw her. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to know who the caller was.

The vet assured you that he managed to stabilize the pup’s vitals. He wanted to keep her for a 48hour observation. He told you, you could pick her up on Tuesday afternoon. Of course, the concerned veterinarian questioned what happened. That the pup’s condition was a strange one and the state of you hadn’t been any help either. You confessed the events of your unexpected journey with the boisterous pup making sure to leave out the murder of two goons. The vet’s eyes widened at the mention of the Joker. He admired how you rescued Bellatrix even when it meant your possible demise. His demeanour shifted from frosty and irritated to calm and somewhat flirtatious. You thanked him for coming out so late and insisted you needed to get home. The vet offered you a ride. It meant avoiding the rain so you accepted the generous offer. With a body and face like his, and the expensive car you climbed into, you admired him. Such a Joker-free life he lived. He offered to walk you up but you politely refused and gave the excuse that it was a rough day. You told him you just wanted to be alone for a while. He assured you he understood and bid you goodnight. You could sense the disappointment in his tone. You hauled yourself up the flights of stairs and into your apartment. There you peeled off your clothing and stepped into a hot shower. You weren’t sure of how long you stood there but the seething water that seeped over your body cleared your mind. When the water began to run cold you turned off the taps and stepped out. The bathroom was covered in a thick cloud of steam. You wiped away the misted mirror and stared at the stranger glaring back at you. Your (hair length) hair had turned neon green, your skin white as chalk, your lips as red as new blood and your cheeks had sunken in. You looked just like the one they all feared. Even your eyes had changed. They became more… fierce.  
 _Boy._ You thought with a smug grin. _Maybe I could teach_ him _a lesson. A lesson on how not to fuck with me._


	3. Crazy, I just can't sleep.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm so excited. I'm in too deep.

Your feet dragged along the aseptic floors of the vintage asylum. There was a guard on either side of you. They were the ones that kept you up as they guided your lazy form. You kept your head southward. It was so they could not see the smug smirk that curled at your lips. You enjoyed hearing their disgruntled moans of the guards beside you. Why should you make their lives easy? They were the same ones who took you from your cell and threw you right back in there after your sessions with your psychiatrist. They hooked their hands beneath your arms that had been wrapped up nice and tight in a straight jacket. Good, it was good they kept you confined. They didn't want another episode. Other patients would stare on in fear or awe as you and your friends passed by them. The guards almost threw you down onto the chair in front of your assigned psychiatrist's desk. The office was as inhospitable as the rest of the asylum. The walls were an off-grey and there was a comfortless leather love seat beneath three barred windows on the far end of the office. The floor was a deep burgundy in color. There were two pictures of laughing children; they looked no older than nine or ten, which hung behind the worn wooden desk of your psychiatrist. In front of the desk were two weathered seats made from metal and torn cushions. Not very comfortable either. The gloomy weather outside those safeguarded windows allowed a little light into the office. The darkness added to the atmosphere. A shiver slithered up and down your spine. Not because of the intimidating room but because it was goddamn cold.

The oak door opened and in stepped your assigned psychiatrist. He had a neat ace-black comb over, an oval-shaped face, inquisitive green eyes shielded by a pair of round glasses, stubble that framed his strong jaw-line and a heart-stopping smile. The broad shoulders beneath his tailored beige suit suggested he was a strong man. Your uninterested (eye color) orbs watched his every move as he seated himself behind the disheveled desk. Your lips twitched in a slight smirk at how your stare made him uncomfortable. He worked for the straight-up cunts that put you into the hell pit that was Arkham Asylum. He cleared his throat to break the awkward silence. You released an exasperated sigh and leaned back in your seat. He busied his hands with the mess of paperwork atop his desk. You sucked at your teeth to gain his attention. It annoyed you how unorganized that man was. Who the hell even hired him? Weren't professionals meant to be in mint condition all the time? Your foot tapped against the tiles in frustration. You knew what he wanted when the mornings started that way. You weren't going to initiate the conversation. Dr Kynan was an ingénue. He should have known.  
"(Last name)," he said with a plastered smile on his face, "it's polite to greet people when they take the time to see you. I'm here to help make you better. We've been through all of this before. Doesn't the aloofness ever get boring? Don't you want to get better? I'm sure you wouldn't mind returning to how life was."  
"Life before you and the cunts cast me down into the deepest depths of hell?" You responded with a wide grin, "I'm truly not sorry if I offended you. Did I offend you, doctor?" You asked leaning forward. "You couldn't offend me even if you wanted to." Dr Kynan stated with a smug smirk that tugged at the corner of his plump lips, "Now, again, tell me what happened from the beginning."

_You fetched Felicity from work that Tuesday Morning. Your colleagues stared in shock at your new appearance. You paid none of them any mind. There was a hateful look in your eye that removed them from your path. You were hell bent on revenge for what Joker did to you and the innocent pup in your custody. The red haired pixie's eyes grew to the size of saucers as they met yours. One simple word left you. That one word challenged her to disobey. Your piercing eyes studied her frightened form, ‘Come.' She nodded and got up from her seat. You asked for the keys to her car. The little red sheep hadn't hesitated to give it to you. Suppose she was afraid you would do something to her, given everything that happened was her fault. You'd have never met Joker if she hadn't pestered you to go with her to Smile and Grin. She was the one to set everything in motion. You hadn't said a word to her as you drove to the familiar club. Her worried baby blue eyes fell on you as she asked where you were going. You snickered and told her that you were just going to visit a friend. At that point, she asked if you would drop her off on the side of the road. Her pleas grew more urgent the closer you got to the club. Her distressed pleas fell on deaf ears as you parked the car just a few yards from the entrance. You needed a running head start to get away. It wasn't logical to park the car right in front of that taunting neon grin. It wasn't lit during the day. It looked a lot more ominous in its dark state. You ordered her to get out of the car before climbing out yourself. What Joker didn't know was that you still had is 45mm on hand. You drew out the cold metal weapon and burst through the doors to the club. In the middle of the room sat four men counting money made from the previous night. You managed to hit all four of them as soon as they got to their feet. They may not have been fatal shots but they were never meant to be. They were meant to draw out the king of rats._

"What did you hope to achieve in, ‘drawing out the king of rats'" Dr Kynan asked, taking notes as you retold the same story you had been for a month, "Somehow your story never changes. Most inmates here change their stories to suit their pretentious innocence. You, on the other hand, tell the same one over and over again. Did you often suffer from repetition before or is this new?"  
"You ask me to tell you my story, I tell you my story and then you say it's something I keep making up over and over again." You replied in uninterested monotone, "If you didn't believe me then why do you keep asking me to tell you the same thing every time I see you, doc? If you're going to keep passing it off as something I've made up in my head then why not just move on to something else? Isn't that what you shrinks do? Make me relive childhood memories to figure out, ‘where it all started' or something?"  
"I don't believe you're crazy (Your name.)" Dr Kynan murmured, putting down his notes and folding his hands over his desk, "I think you're just going through something traumatic and dealing with it in your own way. You'll come out of this stage eventually. This is why I'm here to help you. But I can't help you if you're not willing to help yourself. Only you can free yourself of this… trauma and walk on the path to recovery."  
"You know, doc," You said, sucking on your teeth, "I wasn't crazy. I was as normal as your regular plain Joe/Jane. But now? Now I'm not so sure about that."


	4. Another brick in the wall.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hey, teachers leave those kids alone!

You stared up at the ceiling of your cell. You had not caused any scenes in a week. Maximum security was beginning to run out of space. Gotham teemed with the criminally insane it seemed. As a resort, they took a risk and transferred you. You didn't mind the sudden change. It was nice to see the sun shine through open windows, still barred, but wide open. Hell, your cell even had its own window that you could open or close as you pleased. The polyester curtain decorated in faded sea life was a little torn but it was a big step up. There were no windows or curtains for those windows. There were no bed sheets to keep warm at night. Even the pillow was a lot more comfortable. Your new cell had a worn desk with crude carvings in the wood and a wobbly wooden chair. It had open compartments to place books as well as other belongings into. There were crude messages carved into that as well. The walls were still a dull grey and the floor still a dirty burgundy colour. However, there were hooks for you to decorate them. They'd been replaced several times due to patients using them as a lock pick. You were more intelligent than them. You knew there was no hope in trying to escape the lowest pit of hell. Instead, you enjoyed the pleasant change. Your head tilted westward toward the barred sliding doors. They were the entrance to your cell. It seemed in that section of the asylum it was safe for the psychiatrist to come to you.

"Well, good morning doctor." You greeted with a wide grin plastered onto your well-rested features, "No one told me you were coming in today. No one tells me anything around here. If they don't I'm going to start requesting some answers. It's not fair to withhold information from an unfortunate soul you and your friends threw in here. Especially since I haven't done anything wrong."  
"At least you're in a better mood (Last name.)" Dr Kynan responded, "If you remember correctly it was me and my friends that had you transferred to a better cell. As for not doing anything wrong, you know what you've done just in Arkham alone."  
"I don't recall." You sang, getting up from the mattress with an innocent look on your face.  
"No?" Dr Kynan quipped, "Then let me remind you. The first week you got here you refused to eat, shoving the food down the throat of an orderly instead. The asylum had to force feed you. You almost broke your hands trying to get out of the cuffs whilst in the showers just so you could escape. You were so wild you had to be sedated. These are just to name a few."  
"Nope," You retorted, swinging your feet back and forth with a slow shake of your head, "I still don't recall."  
"How are you settling in your new cell?" Dr Kynan asked in dreariness, "Are you at least getting along with the other patients?"  
"Listen, doc you don't want to be here and I don't want you here. So can we please just get this shit over with?"

_Of course, Joker would appear at the sound of chaos right under his own roof. He saw his men clutching at their wounds and reaching for their weapons. His wild blue eyes then met yours. A playful grin spread from ear to ear but you could see the malice in those piercing blue hues. The fury in them would have scared you off if you weren't so stubborn. His attention then turned to the trembling redhead behind you at the entrance to the club. His chest rose and fell with his expression unchanged._  
"Ooh, I do feel so lucky!" He said with a purr, stretching out his arms for dramatic effect, "Here I was feeling abandoned by you. It broke my heart, it really did. But now I see I'm… graced, with your presence twice in a row! Oh, how lucky do I feel? Maybe I should start placing bets on horses. Funny thing though, I've never been one for sheer luck. So, I think I'm gonna end it."  
His flamboyance distracted you as he had planned. You hadn't even noticed how close he'd gotten to you until his fist collided with your jaw. The force of it knocked the air from your lungs as well. You could taste the blood welling up in your mouth. His second punch landed in your gut. You could have sworn you heard a crunch. You felt it too and it made you grunt. How could one as small as him be so strong? The third punch he landed made contact with your cheek just below your left eye. You could hear the snap and crackle of popping knuckles. He circled you like a predator stalks his prey. Just like the feral cat he was. Every fibre of your living being urged you to fight back. But that was not why you were there. It was not your intention to hurt him physically. The next blow came as a surprise. His foot crashed down on the back of your left knee. That was painful enough to draw an agonized cry as you fell to the floor. He circled round to your front and bent down so his face was level with yours.  
"Why so boring?" He whined, "If you're going to threaten me then at least fight back. I mean, look at you! You look brilliant! It is a marvellous change. No offence Ha. Ha. Ha. Ha. That is why you came here, isn't it though? To threaten me?"  
"Hey, Puddin'?" Harley's voice sounded from where he had emerged, "Did you get ‘em?"  
It was your turn to grin. That was not why you were there at all. "No." You said with a laugh as you raised the gun in her direction.

The memory of shooting her in the stomach still fresh in your mind. It wasn't to kill her it was to send a message to the Clown Prince of Crime. A message he received without grace or dignity. Dr Kynan asked you a few more questions like:  
How are you enjoying the new freedom in the less guarded area of Arkham? To which you responded that he must be joking. What freedom was he talking about? There was no freedom in Arkham or it wouldn't be Arkham. It would be classed as a boarding school for the insane. How did you feel about being having said freedom taken from you? Did you understand why you were put there in the first place? Why did you do the things you did and what was going through your mind at the time? To the last flurry of questions, you said nothing. You stared the psychiatrist in the eye without uttering a word. You could tell your less-than-polite made him feel uncomfortable by the way he squirmed in his chair. He knew damn well that you didn't deserve to be thrown in there. He knew it wasn't you who shot down all those people at the town square. Mr J kindly took it upon himself to get revenge for what you had done to Harley Quinn. From what you knew, she wasn't dead she had just lost a lot of blood. He didn't even care that much that she'd been shot and seriously injured. What got to him was that he believed you thought you could get away with disrespecting him. He had to teach you a lesson. So, he organized a mass murder at your work's annual charity gala. He then pinned everything on you. You had no leg to stand on because of how you looked just like an accomplice to Joker. Neither judge nor jury took pity on you after that. No one believed a word you said. Not even those you trusted.  
"Well, if that's all you have to say then I must tend to my other cases." Dr Kynan said to break the dazed silence between you both. "Have a _great_ morning Doctor." You responded, your voice laced with ice.

The handsome psychiatrist offered you a curt nod before signalling the guards to let him from your cell. A smug grin stretched from ear to ear as you followed behind the good doctor. You reached out and grabbed a hold of his coat. The more he struggled against you the tighter your grip on him got. It took a lashing from the guard against your hand and forearm for you to let go of the exasperated psychiatrist. You snickered as he huffed in your direction and stormed off once he was out of harm's way. You had torn his expensive grey suede coat. He was one that could be easily manipulated into feeling, or doing, whatever you pleased. You turned to flop back onto your bed and stared out of the window. You thought that he could be your ticket out of Arkham. You needed to get out, showing Joker just who he was agitating. However, his embassy was far too large to take down on your own. He could swallow the biggest fish in Gotham whole if he really wanted to. What you couldn't understand was why he hadn't killed you yet. For what you had done he should have tortured you at least. You began to admire him from the time that you spent in Arkham. It was enough to drive a sane person crazy. Especially after how some treated the patients.

At noon you were let out of your cell and led to the cafeteria. There were patients of all shapes, sizes, colours and mentality. None of which paid you much attention. You made your way to the food. An unattractive plus sized woman with a messy hairnet and an unwelcoming scowl on her face handed you a tray. On it was honeyed peas, a mountain of buttered mashed potatoes, spicy minced meat and a slice of blueberry cheesecake on the side. It was something to look forward to. She handed you some plastic utensils and a bottle of pink lemonade to wash it all down. Your luck seemed like it had turned up until one of the other patients stuck their foot out from beneath their table and tripped you. Both you and your tray of food fell to the ground. That caused the other patients to laugh and holler uncontrollably. Your cheeks flushed a deep red in anger. The guards on duty tried their best to calm the rowdy patients down. You were covered in honeyed peas, mashed potatoes and minced meat. You got to your feet as calmly as you could with a malicious grin spread across your face. You bent to pick up your empty tray with that grin never leaving your face. You cleared your throat so they would listen to you. You told the long haired creep just how funny you thought that was. It was truly hilarious. Never breaking your faked tranquil demeanour you whacked him upside the head upon the word, ‘hilarious.' You had hit him with such force that he barrelled backwards off of his seat. That set off the other patients into their rowdy riot once more. The guards apprehended both you and the one who tripped you. What you hadn't noticed was the curious pair of eyes that watched your every move with intrigue.

It was solitary confinement for you. A padded cell wrapped up nice and tight in a straight jacket. You heard the screams of pure hatred from those in the other cells. You, on the other hand, were huddled up in the far corner of your cell. You knew that if one behaved the sentence was shortened. If one screamed like a raving lunatic on acid then the sentence was prolonged. As though the asylum had heard your thoughts the door to your padded cell was opened. There were guns pointed in your direction as you were led back to your previous cell. They removed the straight jacket which was a welcome relief. Your shoulders and elbows made popping noises as you exercised your arms. The guard muttered something under his breath but you paid him no mind. You asked how long you'd been in solitary confinement. The less horrible of the two told you that it had only been a day. Someone informed their superiors that it was not you who started the riot. That it was one of the other patients who had tripped you. They returned to their posts after that and you flopped down on your comfortable bed with the intention to laze about all day. On the verge of sleep, you were interrupted by yet another guard on duty. He opened your cell door and gestured for you to follow him with a nod of his head. You hopped off your bed and happily obliged. He led you to a fenced off yard just outside the asylum. There were other patients littered all around the show just mulling around. Your brow creased with a confused frown as you turned to face the guard.  
"You get fifteen minutes of yard time." He explained sharply, "Use this time as you will."

\----------------------  
 **Poison Ivy as an ally:**

You nodded to the guard and asked no further questions. You were honestly just happy enough to be outdoors. You stopped to breathe in the scent of freshly cut grass. You honestly thought Arkham would be nothing but concrete and metal. There were even hedges with blossoming jasmine. The smell was overpowering but pleasant. It took away the smell of smoke and pollution from the city. Of that much you were certain. The sun peeked through the puffy grey clouds in the sky and that too was a warm welcome. You searched for a spot away from all the other patients and sat cross-legged near the jasmine hedges. You were brought from your tranquil stupor by a figure blocking the way of the sun's rays. You scowled up at the rude imposter to meet eyes with a woman. She had rose-red hair that fell to the middle of her back and sickly green skin. It took no rocket scientist to know who stood before you. Her name was Pamela Isley, more commonly known as Poison Ivy.  
"It's great to see someone else enjoying them as much as I do." She said with a knowing smirk on her gorgeous face, "Sorry about what happened in the cafeteria earlier. Jervis Tetch can be such a pompous jerk. I have red liquorice, and black if you prefer, and gummy worms for you if you want them."  
"That's thoughtful of you." You quipped, "But I believe I'm good."  
"Hey, in a place like this a (guy/girl) needs a friend to watch their back." She retorted with a shrug, "A word of advice from someone who's been in here longer than you. And I like your moxie."

"Then I suppose I'll take your offer on those gummy worms."

\-----------------------  
 **The Riddler as an Ally:**

You weren't too certain about the sudden change of events. It just seemed too puzzling to you. How could they just allow crazy people to loaf about outside? Nah, it was just a little cynical for you. Either way, you would use your new sudden freedom wisely. You knew better than to bother the other patients. It would have been great for you to at least have made one friend among them. You had to be smart about your choice though because you knew better than to trust just any random crazy person. It was Arkham after all. You searched around your surroundings to find the perfect spot for you. Your eyes landed on a bench not too much in the sun's rays and not too covered by the shade. It was just right. You slipped into the seat of the picnic table's seat and revelled in your excellent choice. Your (eye colour) hues scanned every inch of the yard to scout for a possible candidate. You made sure not to make eye contact with any of the patients. You were about to give up on your efforts when a figure plopped themselves down in front of you. He hadn't even made a sound. The suddenness of his arrival startled you.  
"Jesus, man!" You scolded him, "Are you trying to give me a heart attack? Where did you even come from and how the hell did I not hear you coming?"  
"Everyone has me, no one has lost me and you see me both indoors and out… what am I?" He asked with a devious grin.  
"I'm not sure," You answered, mirroring his grin, "what are you?"  
"A shadow." He retorted with a snicker and held out his hand for you to shake, "Edward Nygma."

\-----------------------  
 **Harvey Dent as an Ally:**

You honestly couldn't have cared less about the guard behind you. It was free time to spend outside however you wanted. Now, you weren't going to pick a fight with just any old random patient. A day and a half in solitary confinement were more than enough. Although, if someone looked for trouble with you then trouble they were going to damn well get! You were an all round, generally calm person until someone poked and provoked the demon out of you. Your business was your own. You didn't care about those around you were doing. None of those lazy patients interested you enough to care. In fact, nothing irritated you more than when people stared as you walked on by. Did you have something on your face? You made yourself comfortable at a picnic table that seated only one other. He seemed to be trapped in his own world as he continuously flipped his coin. You watched this in just as much of a daze as him. "Heads." You called out with a smug smirk after the final toss.  
He turned to look at you and you were horrified by the side of his face that was shielded from view. His hair was white and his face scarred beyond recognition; as if his skin had been burned by acid. The two-faced man huffed with amusement at your stunned reaction. He lifted his hand from the coin he'd been playing with.  
"Good call." He retorted, "Personally I think you had a stroke of beginner's luck. I say you and I play a little game. Loser buys the winner a bag of those chocolate coins from the cafeteria. Are you in or are you out?"  
"Ha! You're on big boy. It's time to put your money where your mouth is."

It had been another tolerable two weeks in Arkham no thanks to (your ally). The other patients seemed to know not to get between the two of you. Even the guards were wary when you two were together. Nevertheless, Dr Kynan was overjoyed to hear that you had made a new friend. They were a villainous new friend but a friend nonetheless. So overjoyed that he placed the two of you into group therapy over and above the sessions you had with him. He told you it showed him you were making slow progress. Sometimes Dr Kynan would partner the two of you up during what should have been one-on-one sessions. It was in those sessions that you learned all there was to know about your new friend and they learned all they needed to know about you. You trusted each other in those short two weeks. There was just enough trust to plot your escape from Arkham. With the amount that you had in common with your ally, there was no mistaking that the two of you would break out in no time. You and (Ally) spoke in hushed tones whilst out in the yard when you heard all the commotion coming from inside the asylum. The guard on duty was forced to rush inside and abandon his post to assist his colleagues. You, your ally and a handful of other curious patients followed behind with caution. There was a struggle bringing in a new patient. Three guards had already been knocked out cold. Three more were trying their best to hold him down whilst the nurses tried their best to sedate whoever they were. Your heart stopped upon closer inspection. You recognized those enraged ice blue eyes, chalky skin and neon green hair from anywhere. His piercing blue orbs locked onto yours and he started up his deranged cackle. A nurse stuck the needle into his neck as he was distracted.  
"Did you miss me, pet?" He asked with a sleepy grin, "Aww just lay your head in daddy's lap you're a bad (girl/boy.)" He crooned just before passing out.  
Oh, God.


	5. Run, rabbit run.

Well, they'd caught the son of a bitch. You could hear his manic laughter from your cell. They kept him in the deepest pits of hell yet you could still feel his voice crawl under your skin. The man who started all of the shit in your life was three floors down. Of course, his cell would be watched over by seventeen different guards. It was the Joker after all. There was no way you were going to speak to him. You didn't want to. If anything you preferred to stay as far away from him as possible. One thing that bothered you though, was what happened to Bellatrix after you were thrown into Arkham for so long. Had Felicity taken her over or had she been sent to a rescue home for disabled dogs? Thoughts such as those swirled around in your head over and over again. So, to put your troubled mind to rest, you decided to use the one phone call you had a day. The nurse behind the front desk of your floor looked at you warily as you requested to use the phones. It was six o'clock and not the usual time patients made use of. She asked for the number you needed to call so she could put you through. You obliged the irrational woman and shuffled your way to the phone booths. She gestured to one of them. You picked up the ancient phone and listened to the ring on the opposite end. Every syllable made you nervous. You had a feeling she wouldn't answer. That she would ignore the call and you would be left to wonder. You grew agitated with her neglect. Just seconds before you slammed it back on the receiver in frustration there was a hesitant, "Hello?"

"You're not Felicity." You said to the unrecognizable male voice, "Where is she? What are you doing with her phone?"  
"Who is this?" The male asked, sounding most offensive.  
"(Your name) and I want to speak to Felicity. Not you. So where is she?" You answered, starting to get a little irritated with the stranger, "For God's sake just give the phone to her you pompous moron!"  
You could hear mumbling in the background. A distinctly female voice asking who was getting the male so worked up. He grumbled something back to her and there was a long pause. You could hear the phone change hands and sighed with contempt. There was another pause before the woman you wished to speak to, answered the damn phone. You were forced to unclench the fist you had no idea was tense.  
"Hello? What-what do you want?" She stammered into the phone.  
"Hi, Felicity. Life's been just great here in Arkham!" You quipped with such dry sarcasm it made you thirsty, "Did you know I've made good friends with Poison Ivy/The Riddler/Harvey Dent? Who knew they were here right? Such amazing people. How's your life been? Good?"  
"I asked you what you want." She almost hissed back at you.  
"There's a lot of things I want." You answered, nonchalant, "But I'll settle for knowing how my dog is doing. How is Bellatrix? Did you have her put down, like the heartless bitch you are... or are you going to surprise me and tell me she's all good?"  
"The dog is fine. Some generous family took pity on the poor thing and adopted her. I think it was the veterinarian you took her to. I'll come stop by at the Asylum and ask to bring her along." She stated with that enthusiasm that once brought mirth.  
Now all you wanted was to wrap your hands around her pencil neck and squeeze until she stopped squirming. At least it was one worry you could cross off your list. Bellatrix was safe with someone you knew would take good care of her.

"It would be good to see a familiar face," you lied through clenched teeth, "bring something sweet to snack on. I'll be sure to share it with Joker."  
You hung up before she could ask farther questions. A smirk curled at your lips all the way back to your cell. Waiting for you on your little desk was a folded note.

_Have you ever danced with the devil in the pale moonlight? I never understood what that meant but, oh, I do love the way it sounds. Don't you? Something I would always say before I watched someone wretch to death from laughter or put a plug on their plans… if you know what I mean?_  
HA! HA! HA! HA! HA! HA!  
Of course, you do. You wouldn't be here if you didn't. Say, why are you here? It couldn't possibly have been my fault. Could it? I'll make this short like your temper. Ah, it's good to have a friend on the inside.  
You are still daddy's friend, aren't you? Ooh, I can't wait to play! Tag you're it!  
HA! HA! HA! HA! HA! HA!

You crumpled up the note and threw it as far from your cell as you could. How the note had gotten to you, you didn't know. You'd rather not know. It was bad enough he played ‘games' with you on the outside. Now he wanted to play on the inside? It made you shudder for two reasons. One was from loathing the other from fear. Your mind continued to race as your head hit the pillow. It was clear he had someone on the inside helping him. You dared not guess  
who. The next morning was a welcome distraction. Your ally seated themselves next to you in the cafeteria.

\----------

**Poison Ivy**

"So, what's up with you and Satan's boy toy?" She asked with a huff, "You shouldn't get mixed up with him. You should see the things he's done to poor Harley. She's my best friend. I'd even go so far as to say she's my soulmate. I couldn't give a crap what they do to him down there. That thing cares about nothing but itself… and the Bat. Still, a girl can't help but be curious."  
"That thing is the reason I'm in here." You murmured under your breath, "Well, I guess it's partially my fault as well. I don't think you'd like the story though. It involves your soulmate."  
"I know." She said with an indifferent shrug, "You shot her in the stomach. Pissed him off real bad. He's done much worse things to her than that. What I want to know is why you have it out for him? What did he do to make you so ballsy?"  
You knew better than to trust someone close to Harley Quinn. Yet, if she was so close to her, she didn't seem to care that you shot her best friend. If anything she seemed more intrigued than anything else. Beside her sat someone else who couldn't stand Joker. So, you told her all there was to know about your relationship with the sociopath. She listened intensively without a word. Her nose crinkled when you told her about the kiss. That was it until the very end. She reached out and placed a green hand on yours. She shifted closer and nestled her lips against your neck. "I know how to get us out of here." She whispered, "To get you away from him. You'll just have to trust me. I'll tell you where to meet me at six. No later and no earlier, got that? Time is everything."

\----------

**The Riddler**

"I am Greater than God and more evil than the Devil. Who am I?" He quipped with a mischievous glint in his eye.  
"The Joker?" You mumbled under your breath, "Come on, Ed you can do better than that. What do you find so fascinating about him?"  
"I think the greater question here is what Mr. J wants with you. The way he looked at you says a lot more than you're letting on. Everyone already knows he's the reason you're here. What I want to know is why Joker has such a fascination with you. Not that you're uninteresting or anything. If you were I wouldn't be here talking  
to you. You are a wonder. So, go on, tell me your story. What's with all the sexual tension between you two?"  
"What the hell?" You cried in shock.  
"You cannot taste me until you undress me. You cannot eat me unless you lick me. You cannot play with me unless you blow me. You cannot enjoy me unless you suck me. You make me wet and put me in your mouth every day. You cannot enjoy me unless you spread me. What am I?" He continued with that mischievous glitter in his eye.  
"For shit sake, Ed!" You muttered, "What's wrong with you?"  
"I am offended," He replied, his hand over his chest as he tried his best to suppress a smile, "The answers are a banana, an ice-cream, a balloon, a lollipop, a toothbrush, and butter. It isn't my fault you have such a dirty mind! I won this round so you have to tell me everything now."  
So, just to put an end to the presumptuous riddles, you told him the whole story. He nodded his acknowledgment without interruption. When you were done he told you of his plan to escape. You were to meet him in a specific place at six. No later.

\----------

**Harvey Dent**

"Hey, kiddo." He greeted with a sigh, "People are talking around Arkham about you and that stupid clown. Coin said I should still check up on you though. So, how are you doing kid? You look like crap."  
"Gee, thanks, Harvey. You really know how to make someone's day." You retorted, "Contrary to what you think I look like I'm actually pretty fine. People can talk. I don't care. That just means they'll stay out of my way."  
"This is why you and I are buds." He replied with an amused huff, "Although I can almost smell the indecisiveness on you. Don't get me wrong because it's not a bad thing. Means you leave everything to chance. Something we have most in common. Tell you what, why don't we play a game of chance? If it lands on heads you tell me your story with Joker if it lands on tails we forget the whole thing. So, call it."  
He flipped his coin. His most prized possession. You unknowingly called Tails before he lifted his hand to reveal the face of the coin. He chuckled to himself as you told him everything with a great deal of reluctance. Only to find out it was a double-sided coin. You should have known better than to trust a man with two faces. He got up from his seat and gave you a light pat on the shoulder. He leaned in close to your ear.  
"I got us a way out of here, kid." He murmured, "Meet me at six. You know where to go. Do me a favor and don't be late."  
With that, he gave you a final tap on the shoulder and walked off. He couldn't have been serious, could he? Harvey was never one to joke around about such things. Above all, he was a bit frightening. If Harvey told you to meet him at six; you'd meet him at six.

You looked at the clock above the entrance to the cafeteria. The seconds ticked by and still there was no sign of your friend. You started to get a little restless. They told you not to be late and yet it was fifteen minutes past six. Something could have gone wrong and they were caught. If that was the case then they would finger you as an accomplice and you would never be free from Arkham. What was even stranger was the lack of guards patrolling the area. One of them should have spotted you at least once. You paced through the tables to burn off some steam. You walked through the archway twice to check if any guard was walking by. The cafeteria was particularly dark at night. It was eerie as well from lack of patients. They were all in their cells none the wiser about your escape plan. You knew you shouldn't have agreed but such a temptation was too good to pass up. Another five minutes went by and still no sign of their presence. You told yourself that you would give them another ten minutes. If they did not show up by then you would return to your cell. You sat at one of the tables whilst the room grew darker around you. The only light emitting from the poorly lit ceiling lamps in the hall. You grew so accustomed to the silence that your heart started beating in time with the seconds. Every few minutes you would glance at the clock. Your heart sank farther into your stomach with every moment that went by. Once those ten minutes were up you got to your feet with a sigh. You trudged your way back to your cell with broken spirits. If you had paid more attention to your surroundings instead of your feet; you would have seen the woman sitting at the desk with a spine-chilling grin on her face.

The guard that usually watched over your area stood next to the entrance of your cell. He leaned up against the wall and did not move. His arms were folded across his chest and his head hung downward. He didn't even acknowledge you weren't where you were supposed to be. It all just seemed too odd. They should have raised the alarm. They should have had at least every guard looking for you. Everything was out of place. Not even the patients made a sound.  
"Hey!" You yelled at the oblivious guard, "I'm over here! Woo, I'm a crazy person dancing around the halls. I'm gonna get ya! Better watch out or I'll knock out your lights and escape this hell hole."  
Nothing you did got his attention. It looked like he might have been asleep. You couldn't hear him snoring or steady breathing. That was out of place just like everything else. You approached the guard with caution and flicked him on the nose. There was no reaction. You clicked your fingers in front of his face and still, nothing. You pressed your finger to his forehead and pushed it back. You were expecting a dumb expression with a gaping mouth. Not the eyes that were forced open too wide or the grin that had been pinned into place. His throat had been sliced open. You backed away from the dead guard. He had been placed in that position by someone. Maybe your friend was a lot crazier than you thought. Instead, it wasn't your friend at all. In your shock, you bumped into someone behind you. You whipped around to the familiar green-haired jester of genocide.  
"I told you I'd get us out, didn't I?" He said with a chuckle, "It's not any fun when your playground is very… hmm. What is the word I'm looking for? Constricted."

Of course, he would have something to do with it. You did want out of Arkham but at what cost? You took a step away from him. You could see the seething madness in his eyes. You weren't afraid of him. You had no intention of being killed by him either. He didn't like that. You had to admit, in another life you would have been attracted to such darkness. Especially when it looked that good in nothing but khaki pants. He continued forward even when your back hit the wall. It amused him making you so uncomfortable. His face just inches from yours and his ruby lips curled into an unnatural grin.  
"I do love what you've done with your hair!" He said with a low chuckle, "You should give me your hairdresser's details. I hear he's a real handsome fella. Just _killer_ with comedy too."  
"Why couldn't you just leave me alone?" You asked, doing your best to hide the frustration.  
You failed at this when his hand snaked around your throat and squeezed. His grin morphing into a snarl. You would not be intimidated by him any longer. You tired of his games quickly. You thought that if he were to kill you, so be it. The flame in his eyes burned white hot as he realized you were not afraid of death. Your head began to spin from the lack of oxygen. You choked and sputtered against the flesh of his cold hand. Still, you would not give in. Your rebellion sparked something within him and, with a furious growl, he crashed his lips against yours. His grip on your neck loosened but a little. An act of impulsive passion and dominance. Admittedly, a sweet electric spark gathered around the pit of your stomach and worked its way up to your head. You nipped hard enough at his bottom lip to draw blood. A shocked Joker loosened his grip just enough for you to wiggle free. You could hear his laughter follow behind you as you sprinted through the halls to the exit. His faded words ringing in your ear.  
"Run, little rabbit," he called to you through his laughter, "run!"


End file.
